How my Pagan Children Grow...

With all of the drama ensuing over the Circle of Mom's Top25 contest as of late, I've used my quiet moments to ponder just how much my faith influences my choices as a Mother. 

You will never hear me claim to be perfect in this role.  Much as I'd like to tell those snooty-boot blog moms [who turned their noses up at Pagan motherhood] that "Anything you can do I can do better" -- Go ahead.  Sing the lyrics.  You know you want to!  ;) --

the truth is I'm not always confident and I'm not always composed in the rearing of my two young boys.  I get frustrated.  I get angry.  I make mistakes and damned if they don't see me make them.  But in the midst of these short-comings, I am always there.  I am always honest.  I am always Me, their mom: nose-wiper, booboo-kisser, #1-supporter, Eat all your veggies-mandator extraordinaire!  My sons have seen me lose my cool.  They've seen me pause to take a deep breath so that I can avoid losing my cool.  They've seen me cry.  They've heard me swear.  They know that I am not perfect.  But they still believe I'm SuperMom.

What a beautifully splendid lesson they learn just through watching their mom during a meltdown -- I don't have to be perfect to be Super.  No, my children don't count rosary beads or kneel at their bedsides before sleep.  They don't attend Sunday school.  And no, they weren't baptised.  Yet their precious little lives are filled daily with faith...

They wake each day and thank the moon for keeping them safe in the night.  They welcome the sun who they know will power them with energy during their day.  They learn repeatedly the quick and unbiased authority of Karma and her laws.  They light candles and blessing sticks -- not for toys or slurpees, but for a sick baby or a missing pet.  They understand that people are different and wouldn't want it any other way [how boring would that be!].  They love the earth and help to keep her clean just as passionately as they do their most prized possessions [which presently is a growing collection of action figures from the Super Hero Squad Show]. 

In our home there is no rigid, obedient family structure [like something out of the 17th century].  We don't need this to find spirituality.  We don't need labels.  We don't need collection plates.  We don't need scripture written by ancient minds long since gone to tell us what we feel within.  We need only a guidance inspired by Pure Faith [one that comes by direct path: through the heart and into the world that surrounds it].

My five year old is learning to read and write.  Before bed I pull out his black and white journal and give him a new word to copy.  Tonight, before I got the chance to jot down 'bonfire' -- which was going to be my choice [seeing as we'd just finished roasting marshmallows over a gorgeous one], he stopped my hand and said "Mom, I want to learn to spell my favorite word... Namaste!"

For those who are unfamiliar, 'Namaste' translates to mean that there is a light in you, there is a light in me and we bow in honor of one another's light.

I asked my child why 'namaste' is his favorite word and he replied "because if everyone has a special light inside, then we are all shiny together."  Yes friends, a humble reminder from a preschooler!

You can bet that after kissing his forehead and turning off his light, I walked into my bedroom and balled my eyes out.  Such sweet innocence. 

Yes, my Faith is different.  And it's so very very right.